Endless Sleep
by Starzki
Summary: An old enemy took revenge.  Their firstborn son fell asleep and did not wake up.  Sango and Miroku must seek the King of All Night's Dreaming to recover their son.  Crossover with Neil Gaiman's Sandman series.
1. Miroku

Disclaimer: The characters of _Inuyasha_ and _The Sandman_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and Neil Gaiman, respectively. I'm not profiting from writing this.

Author's Note: This is an _Inuyasha_ crossover with Neil Gaiman's _Sandman_ series (mostly crossed with the story from the book _The Dream Hunters_).

* * *

Endless Sleep

By Starzki

* * *

1. Miroku

Events have completely shaken me. I know I will not be able to convey what has happened to anyone's satisfaction, especially not my own.

How it happened is largely unimportant. Just details. I had made an enemy a long time ago, in my philandering days.

An enemy with a long memory.

An enemy with a friend who was owed a rather large boon from someone quite powerful.

However, the only detail truly important to me is that this enemy waited until just this week to exact his revenge.

My desire for a son was well known, so this man decided that taking him from us was the best way to get back at me. His friend collected on the favor and our innocent son, barely old enough to walk, fell asleep one night and did not wake up. He slept on and on and no one could wake him.

The only reason we even knew about his plan is because he came to our house to brag. He had caught Hatchi and forced him to confess my whereabouts. He had carried out his plan. He came, dragging Hatchi, to gloat.

Angry though I was, I could not blame Hatchi much. This old enemy was as ruthless a man as I had ever known.

"Your son will die after three days of sleep," we were promised. He noticed the blade in Sango's hand only a second before it was at his neck and only smirked more broadly. "If anything happens to me, the little girls will be next."

Sango seethed as the man strode away. "If our son dies, he dies, too." She spit out every word, deadlier than a viper. She gathered the girls and left to seek counsel and comfort from our friends.

It was bad luck that this man had discovered Hatchi and had found me. But, as is the way of the universe, a small piece of good luck followed the bad and saved Sango and me from complete despair.

Hatchi stayed with me and my son, apologizing and prostrating himself to me. I had my own guilty conscience to deal with. But as Hatchi tried to calm my raging, he made a chance comment about an old fairy tale he had heard.

"Your son's sleeping sickness reminds me of the tale of the King of All Night's Dreaming..."

Sango, comforted by Kagome and Shippou, suddenly remembered our traveling days and a story that Shippou had related around the fire about a distant relative of his.

"Shippou," she said, "tell me again the story about the white fox and the monk."

We heard the tales. We remembered the myths.

Sango and I sought each other out, revelation alight in our eyes. We discussed it for the rest of the day as we returned home to care for our children, both the sleeping and those who were awake.

Sango talked about how the mightiest demon hunters in her village discussed legends of ancestors who had gone to sleep to catch _Baku_, the mythical beasts who ate dreams and nightmares. It was said that if a warrior caught one, they would have power within another person's dreaming, which would be a fearsome weapon, indeed. However, there were no tales of anyone in Sango's village who had ever managed to catch the beast with an elephant's head and tiger claws, let alone enter another's dreams.

"May the _Baku_ eat this living nightmare, once it has passed, too," she whispered.

I spoke of Mushin's drunken description of how he once dreamed that was called to the grand palace of the King of All Night's Dreaming. He was called in order to properly serve _sake_ to the King and his guest, Susano-o-no-Mikoto, the storm god himself. As he told the story, Mushin had wiped tears from his eyes and roared his frustration at his inability to remember their conversation. He had, however, managed to palm a cherry pit from a plate as he cleared it away. He had awoken from this dream with the pit in his hand.

Years later, I won that cherry pit from him in a wager. If memory serves me, it was probably the only bet I have ever won fairly.

I pulled it from the inner lining of my robe, where I have kept it ever since, and gave it to Sango. "This is yours now. It seems an ordinary enough thing, and Mushin may have lied to me about the dream, but I have always sensed a kind of power, however small, coming from it."

Though unconventional, the stories and myths were what we had to comfort ourselves that there was something we could do to save the life of our son. We would have to try.

After the girls fell asleep and we again made sure our son was comfortable, I laid with Sango and held her close. I stroked her hair. Her worried eyes searched for comfort in mine. We talked. We planned.

"Tomorrow, I will take the children to Kagome and Inuyasha."

"Tomorrow I will fast and cleanse and purify myself. I will prepare for meditation."

"Kagome's baby is not due for at least three more months and will be happy to help how she can."

"If I can meditate deeply enough, I can help guide you through Dreaming."

"The girls will be good, I know. And because he is sleeping..." Sango choked on his name, but continued, "He will also cause them no trouble."

"I will anchor you so you do not get lost."

"I will sleep. Then dream. Then fight."

"I will be awake, but dream with you and you and you will seek the King of Dreams."

"We will save our son."

"We will save our son."

That night, we did not sleep.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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A/N 2: This was originally posted on the livejournal community mirsan_fics on 10/9/10 for the "Dream" prompt. As a general rule, I don't typically like crossovers, but the prompt intrigued me to try this. Also, the setting for Gaiman's _Dream Hunters_ is eerily close to the setting of _Inuyasha_, so a crossover wasn't completely crazy. The story isn't over yet (in fact, the next chapter is mostly written), but I would love feedback from readers.


	2. Sango

Disclaimer: The characters of _Inuyasha_ and _The Sandman_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and Neil Gaiman, respectively. I'm not profiting from writing this.

Author's Note: This is an _Inuyasha_ crossover with Neil Gaiman's _Sandman_ series (mostly crossed with the story from the book _The Dream Hunters_).

* * *

Endless Sleep

By Starzki

* * *

2. Sango

-x-

I found myself at my old training field in my home village. As was my old routine, I began stretching exercises with some vague awareness that there was something else I should be doing.

As I hoisted Hiraikotsu and prepared to launch it at my target, I noticed a thin, purple string tied around my left wrist.

I stared at it a moment, confused.

Then, it all came rushing back to me.

I was dreaming.

I had a mission.

Before I fell asleep, my first sleep in two days and one night to ensure a sound slumber, Miroku had pulled a single long string from his _kesa_. He held it tight in his fist while murmuring a sacred mantra. When he finished, a brief flash of violet light shined between his closed fingers.

Tying one end of the string around my left wrist and the other around his right index finger, he said, "You know how easy it is to get distracted when you dream, even when you _want_ to keep dreaming about something specific. With this connection, I'll be able to follow you in your dream, steer you to the center, where Mushin claimed the castle was, and be there for you as you bring our son back."

I had kissed him then, and hoped that it conveyed optimism and promise instead of the sad longing I felt. I double-checked the cherry pit in my hand.

I leaned back and shut my eyes and Miroku settled in for deep meditation.

I fell asleep.

I was dreaming.

In my hand, I still gripped the cherry pit. I moved it to the more secure niche beneath my left shoulder guard where I often kept my smaller tools and treasures.

I waited for Miroku to help me with the next step on this journey. I was glad to be in my slaying gear and to have Hiraikotsu with me.

I wondered what Miroku's guidance would be like. I expected it would be a tugging sensation on the string around my wrist or a voice in my head, telling me where to go.

I was almost half-right.

As I scanned the dreamscape around me, I saw that the horizon, where sky met earth, was blurry, like ink marred by water. It was the edge of my own dreamscape that I had never noticed before. I then felt a tingle at my left wrist along with a sudden revelation, like a new thought arising in my head, that I should turn directly right.

Instead of the blurred edges of colorful landscape, a clear path was visible.

This was the way.

After a few steps, I was no longer on my old training ground. I wasn't sure where I was; it was unlike any place I had ever been. The ground beneath my feet was baked and hard. Yellow, stringy grass grew only in sporadic tufts. The sky was a smoke gray without clouds or birds. It would have been a totally desolate place but for the towers of crystal, three to eight feet tall, that rose up from the ground in random clusters.

Because of the light passing through the crystals, the tough ground was patterned in rainbows. The effect, though gorgeous, was dizzying.

"Have you ever seen anything like it?" I asked aloud, knowing Miroku could hear me.

I was so enthralled by this crystal wasteland that I almost didn't hear the strange popping noise a few feet away from me, coming from a crack in the ground. It sounded a little like trapped, boiling water escaping in vapor from underneath a teapot set on scalding hot surface.

I backed away just as a fiery plume shot out from the crack in the earth.

I was knocked off of my feet, too surprised to do anything but gape. The fire was gone as quickly as it had come, but I knew there would probably be more throughout this land. Like so many things, this place was beautiful and dangerous.

"Get me out of here, Miroku," I said.

I regained my feet and began running through the wasteland, keeping an ear out for popping sounds and dodging the flames as they followed my footsteps. A thought, I knew it was Miroku, surmised the ground was pressure-sensitive and that fire would dog me until I left this nightmare.

I ran and dodged. I almost despaired that this dreamscape seemed miles and miles long and I had not the time to waste here.

Then, with the tingle at my wrist and the thought that I should alter my course slightly toward the clear part of the horizon, I had completely traversed the crystal wasteland. The perspectives and confusing distances of dreaming, it seemed, could also work in my favor. Near and far were almost the same thing in this place.

Now, instead of desert that breathed fire, I found myself in a wooded area, following a trail on a steep incline. I followed the trail, readying my senses for any form of attack that might come from the dense thickets of grass or from the trees above me.

After a few steps, I noticed the form of a man on the trail ahead of me. He was fat and clothed in dark green. He was the first being I'd met in this dream and I regarded him with suspicion, gripping Hiraikotsu's handle in case he made a move to attack.

"Hoom. Good evening young lady," he said with cheer and a deep bow. He had a likeable aspect to him and I steeled myself from the desire to relax my guard as I came closer to him. There were no thoughts from Miroku as to who this might be.

"Hello," I said. "Who are you?"

"Dear child," he chastised, "I am not a who. You should not assume such things here." It dawned on me that this man, or whatever he was, knew about the land of dreaming. He did not seem angry or hostile, so I chanced that he would share some information with me.

"Is this the way to the castle of the King of All Night's Dreaming?"

A good-natured smile spread under his thick moustache. "Hoom. It could very well be," he answered. "King Dream often changes its location based on his moods. I have stopped keeping track."

I frowned and the fat man gave me a concerned look. "My dear child, I think you would do well not to seek the king of this realm. He prefers his solitude and his work. Though he is good to us here, he is easy to take offense and powerful enough to make his enemies suffer for several lifetimes. Instead, stay here." He motioned to a path that forked off of the one I had been following. "Just beyond this wood there is a beautiful, green, rolling meadow with a laughing river, sweet flowers, and warm sunshine. Stay there tonight and awake tomorrow feeling better than you can imagine."

"I can't," I said.

The man frowned and nodded. "I understand. But please know that you are welcome back any time you would like."

I bowed and thanked him. I continued climbing the steep path.

The man's voice came from behind me, "Child, though it is vast and dangerous, the land of dreaming is a place that exists within you and within all those who sleep." I turned and saw that the man had disappeared. Then I heard his voice again, coming from all around me, "You have power here, too."

I whirled around, searching for the man. He seemed friendly and his advice was comforting, but I was not sure that I could trust him to steer me correctly.

A small tug at my wrist set me back on the path up the incline. The thought from Miroku was that the man in green was probably telling the truth, but he would be no ally in the fight for our son.

As the trees cleared, I found that I was at the top of a mountain standing at one edge of a natural stone bridge that spanned a dark and fertile valley far, far below. The bridge was sturdy, but it was hard to see where it led. There was another mountain at the other end of the valley, so I assumed the bridge would lead me there, even though it was miles away. In any case, I had no choice; this was the only clear path for me.

"This is the way to him," I said at the same time as the thought arose in my head.

I walked the bridge, marveling at the beauty of the valley below. But after a few dozen steps, I notice that the bridge was getting steadily narrower. What had begun as a walkway on which three people could comfortably walk side-by-side had thinned such that a couple walking two-abreast would feel uneasy.

"This is getting dangerous, it seems," I said.

After another minute of walking, the bridge was only as wide as my two spread hands. It didn't feel fragile beneath my feet, but I hesitated. The way forward only looked narrower.

Though I could feel Miroku cautioning me not to turn back, even going so far as pull the string forward along the bridge, I turned around.

"I don't like this," I said. "We'll find another way."

I walked back the way I had come. But a few steps later, the bridge was even narrower than before and I had to place my feet one in front of the other to walk. It seemed that no matter which direction I went, I would be going forward until I was walking a bridge as thin as the edge of a sword.

I huffed. "I can't keep going like this," I told Miroku.

There was no response from him.

"Any suggestions?"

Nothing.

I peered downward toward the valley that seemed miles below. I remembered the fat man in green. I had a thought of my own.

"This is my dream and I have power here, too."

With that, I jumped off the bridge, falling.

Falling.

I could feel Miroku's sudden panic at my decision and I did my best to ignore it.

Instead, as the rushing winds grew louder around me, I tightly shut my eyes and I focused on this new weightless feeling.

I concentrated.

Water.

Cold water.

I'm in cold water.

I'm not falling, I'm swimming.

I'm swimming in the heart of dreaming and when I break the surface, I will meet the King of All Night's Dreaming.

I've often found I could direct my dreams. With Miroku's help with that direction, I could find a shortcut to dreaming's center.

The sound of wind faded, but my weightless feeling did not.

I was cold.

I opened my eyes and found I was submerged in brackish water of a swamp or pond.

I began to kick and swim, finding the pinpoint of light that would lead me out.

I surfaced with a gasp and made my way to the water's edge. I saw that I was in a pond in a beautiful garden.

I pulled myself to my feet and surveyed the surroundings. Circular paths led around gorgeous trees and animal statues of every color. Flowers looked full and delicate and the air was full of their light aroma.

"_**Few are as able to find me as quickly as you just did**_," said someone behind me. The voice was unusual. It was as though every word was covered in ink that disguised it as human language.

I turned toward the voice, ready for anything. I would beg, if he wanted. Or fight. My mouth opened to explain myself, but the words stuck in my throat at the sight of him.

He almost looked human. He was in the form of a tall, thin man, regally dressed in a deep black kimono laced with exquisite flame-colored embroidery. His shock of long black hair was wild and elegant at the same time. He looked exactly as I had always imagined a great king should look.

But he wasn't human. His skin was paler than bleached bone. His eyes were night. They were endless and black and contained bright stars that shined from within. He emanated great power; more than I knew I could withstand.

My knees went weak with fear. The string at my wrist tingled and with Miroku's strength, I found my voice.

"I've come for my son."

TO BE CONTINUED...

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A/N2: Any feedback from readers is truly appreciated.


	3. Dream

Disclaimer: The characters of _Inuyasha_ and _The Sandman_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and Neil Gaiman, respectively. I'm not profiting from writing this.

Author's Note: This is an _Inuyasha_ crossover with Neil Gaiman's _Sandman_ series (mostly crossed with the story from the book _The Dream Hunters_).

* * *

Endless Sleep

By Starzki

* * *

3. Dream

-x-

The demon exterminator stood in front of me, waiting for my response.

Her pretty face was set in a serious expression. I knew why Sango was here. I was impressed that she had found her way to me so easily. But then I noticed the thread around her wrist and knew she had teamed up with her clever husband in order to locate me.

I am so rarely impressed, so I decided to hear her out.

"He's my son and you had no right to take him," she growled out, still afraid of me, but trying not to let it show.

I could see the scars from Despair's hooked ring all over this young woman. My younger sister can be cruel, though she does not mean to be, and I could see that Sango has known more suffering than most humans could survive. Even now, I could see Despair looming over Sango, her hook ready to tear into Sango's heart if she did not receive her son. I was sympathetic, but I had to attend to my own duties.

"_**While I am sorry for your loss, taijiya, I am obligated to take a child fathered by your husband, the monk Miroku.**_"

Sango hissed, "Our son was not anyone's to give, nor was he yours to take! Where is he? I demand to know!"

While she didn't approach me, Sango set her stance in preparation for a fight. My mouth quirked upwards at her show of defiance. Amused by the human, I answered.

"_**Your son is here, in Dreaming."**_

"Let me see him," she replied. Her eyes shined brightly with hope.

"_**I think it would be best if you did not. Seeing him would only make the heartache worse when you had to leave him here."**_

The corners of her mouth pulled down with disappointment. "Please," she whispered. "I would give you anything you wanted."

"_**What do you think that **_**you**_** could offer **_**me**_** that I could not create in Dreaming?"**_

Sango's eyes took on a panicked, searching look as she considered her options. It was clear that most of what she held dear, people and relationships, she could never give up.

Finally, she seemed to come upon a solution and she unslung the giant boomerang weapon from her back. She knelt in front of me and placed it at my feet.

"This is Hiraikotsu," she told me. "It is the most powerful weapon of my taijiya village. It is infused with the souls of many courageous demons and can dispel even the most evil miasma a creature can create."

While I trusted the truth of her claims, I could not stop my smile. _**"Foolish human,"**_ I said, _**"I have no fear of Earthly poisons and no need of demon-fighting weapons. Even this Hiraikotsu that you offer to me in Dreaming is nothing more than your own thought of the object."**_

"Please, sire!" she pleaded, tears gathering in her eyes. "I'll give you anything you want! Just name it! Please!"

"_**Enough,"**_ I said sternly. _**"This matter is at a close. I am sorry that the person to whom I am indebted is an enemy to such a person as you, but there is nothing to be done. It is settled."**_ I turned to leave, to return to my palace.

"It is _not_ settled," was her reply, spoken so low it was almost a whisper. The murderous tone of her voice made me pause and turn my attention to her once again.

Sango had slowly risen to her feet. Her shoulders were slumped and her head bowed, but the whiteness of her clenched fists and the rigidness of her stance expressed her true demeanor. Her bangs hid her eyes from me, but her aura was alight with fire.

The creature in front of me was so exquisite with the pure, undiluted emotions of love, sadness, and, above all, anger, that I had to force myself from openly admiring her.

"_**You wish to harm me, little one?"**_ I asked, intentionally goading her in order to see more of her beautiful rage.

"I'll take my son back by force if I have to."

Though I knew it was wrong to play with her in such a way to get her hopes up, I was in sore need of diversion. This warrior mother would, no doubt, be greatly entertaining.

"_**You wish to do battle? Then, by all means,"**_ I said and waved an arm toward my garden.

At once, the three statues of the garden that were carved into the most fearsome beasts sprang to life and charged. Sango scowled at me, then turned to face her attackers.

The first to reach her was a form from the nightmare of a Nordic eight-year-old boy who had only just been told of the legend of the ferocious wolf-creature who lived in his nearby wood. He had imagined large eyes, uncountable, long, sharp teeth, and the claws of a raptor. This wolf-creature was made for tearing off flesh and crunching bones to pulp.

Sango did not even blink in the face of this beast. She swung her Hiraikotsu with her full strength, completing both a defensive and offensive move at the same time. She struck the wolf off of its trajectory and dealt it a powerful blow to the torso.

Taking the time she had as the wolf regained its bearings, she pulled the short sword from her belt and charged at the wolf with both weapons swinging. The wolf was ready, though, and reared up on its hind legs to swipe at the Hiraikotsu with its sharp talons while biting at the wrist that held her sword. Claws and teeth moved so fast they were difficult to see.

Yet Sango seemed prepared and was able to push the wolf off of its balance and regain her tempo. She moved in to strike but was distracted by a twitch of her wrist. She brought the Hiraikotsu up just in time to deflect the blows from above by the other two creatures I summoned.

I smiled inwardly, more fully understanding how this husband-and-wife partnership endured. Even though technically awake, Miroku was able watch out for his wife's vulnerabilities in battle and warn her of the silent attack from above. It was clearer how this seemingly mismatched couple had grown to love and trust one another despite their vast differences. They looked out for one another.

Miroku had seen the twin threat. One beast was in the form of a giant bat with a razor-sharp beak and silent, leathery wings. He was the product of another nightmare from an older Chinese man who had taken refuge in a dank cave some centuries ago.

The other creature was a truly terrifying insect that had once existed on a planet in a now-extinct galaxy. This specimen had poison-coated barbs thrust out from her black, hairy body. She had six wings of a putrid green hue, eighteen glowing red eyes, and a large stinger with which she could either poison or impale her prey.

Every creature Sango fought promised its own version of excruciating death and they were all attacking her simultaneously. Though she was a warrior and though I could see the poetry in her movements, my beasts were strong and it was all that Sango could do to maintain her defenses, even with the extra support of Miroku.

While it was vastly entertaining to watch the fight knowing that Sango had a secret weapon of a loving husband who was doing all he could to help her in her quest, the battle was coming to a quick end. One of the creatures would soon deal a killing blow and the warrior-wife-slayer-mother would awaken back in her home.

But it seemed, once again, that I had underestimated the team of Sango and Miroku because suddenly, Sango went from furiously trying to defend herself and slay the beasts that surrounded her to calmly just deflecting their blows. Her eyes were closed and she seemed deep in thought, probably communicating through the thread to her husband.

I was evermore intrigued. This Sango captivated me.

A resounding beat went through all of Dreaming when Sango, resolved, opened her eyes.

"I have power here, too," she said.

With that statement, she turned and caught the advancing wolf-creature by the scruff of his neck. She held in her hand not a fearsome nightmare, but a puppy with large eyes, lolling tongue, and wagging tail. With her defeat of him, he once again returned to the base of his statue, only now he maintained his puppy shape.

As the two attackers from above saw her new strategy, they retreated to the upper atmosphere of Dreaming to reconsider their next moves. Sango, discontent to wait for them, jumped as high as she could to reach them.

She jumped high and hung in space, willing herself to stay aloft as those in Dreaming sometimes can. With that, she flew toward the beaked bat. He balked at her approach, noticing that she had willed herself to grow bigger. By the time she reached him, all she needed to do was waft the air with her hand and the bat-creature was sent spinning toward the ground. He hit with finality and returned to his form as a statue in my garden.

Finally, she turned, still a giant, toward the insect-being. She inhaled deeply and blew out through a closed fist. Fire shot through the air and engulfed the otherworldly insect. She was the third of my creatures to again realize her statue form.

Sango wiped the sweat from her brow and looked at me with triumph. She then hurled her Hiraikotsu at me with confidence.

"_**Enough."**_

This was my world and I could do with it as I pleased. With a thought, Sango and I faced one another and surrounded by nothing but white. The whirling Hiraikotsu had vanished into my ether. Because I willed it, we were alone. It seemed we needed to talk.

"_**Impressive display. But I am sad to tell you that it will not win your son back to you. As I have said, I made an agreement. A child of Miroku's is forfeit to me."**_

To her credit, Sango seemed unsurprised by my statement. "What would become of my son if he were to stay here?"

"_**He would become a part of Dreaming,"**_ I answered. _**"He would become an inspiration for people's dreams and stories. He will live on in dreams for as long as there are beings in our universe who have them. It is not a bad existence."**_

"He is a child. What could he inspire?"

"_**You would be surprised what people can come up with. I often am, myself."**_

"Wouldn't you prefer someone older? Someone like me, who already has a story?"

I was momentarily rendered speechless. The young mother had a point. She had the potential to be the heart and soul of future dreams and stories.

"_**You would give yourself up to Dreaming in place of your son?"**_

The string at her wrist jerked violently and she was almost pulled off of her feet. She looked at it with a mixture of annoyance, love, and sadness. She tugged at it and it snapped without much difficulty. Sango had severed her link with Miroku.

"Without hesitation, I would give myself up so that my son could live."

Her proposal deserved my consideration. I gave it thought.

I conjured the lake from the garden, but only that, to join us in the whiteness of our conversation. Then I summoned a tree on the farther side. Beneath it was Lucien, the keeper of Dreaming, and with him was Sango's son.

Sango drew in a deep breath and looked at me with hope and relief in her eyes. "Will you really take me so that he could survive?" she asked, voice cracking with emotion.

"_**No. You have lived your story. You have already had your happy ending. You are married. You have had children. You will live to have more. As beautiful, and as inspiring a warrior as you have been, true dreaming inspiration must have more unfulfilled potential. You are no longer a maiden and you have already fought your most ferocious battles. All that is left to tell of your life, while extraordinary to you, is not quite the stuff of legend."**_

Sango could not take her eyes from her son across the pond. He, too, had noticed his mother, and under Lucien's guidance, had begun his long toddle over, from the tree and around the pond to his mother.

"Then why are we talking?" Sango asked. Her voice was flat and dead, resigned. She now lived only to hug her son once more.

"_**Because watching you made me realize that another child of yours, a daughter with your skill set, your passion, your emotion, your lethality, your husband's intelligence and maybe a touch of his perversion, would inspire stories for millennia to come."**_

"Wait. What are you asking me?" said Sango, finally turning to look at me.

"_**I agreed to take a child of Miroku's. Though it was assumed that I would take this particular child immediately, those specific words were not used in the request."**_

"You can't have the any of the twins, either!" Sango announced.

"_**I would agree to that. Neither one of them will inherit the breadth of your skills, but both will grow into lovely maidens in their own turn. What I am proposing is that a future daughter of yours, if one is born, who has your beauty and skills, will one day come to live here in Dreaming, where she will live on in people's imaginations forever."**_

"I can't," Sango said, but her voice was weak and her attention was turned back to her son, who was now halfway around the pond. She had begun to smile at him for his benefit. In return, he was cooing and tripping over himself to get to his mother as fast as he could run. "I could never give up a child."

I considered this and admired the woman before me.

"_**No you couldn't. But, if a child of yours, a young maiden was to fall in battle, would you consent that she be able to join me here in Dreaming?"**_

Sango regarded me again. "I... don't think I can agree to this. I can't make this decision on behalf of a life that has not yet been borne."

"_**The decision has been made. I promised a boon to a man who was able to help me with my youngest sister. That man has asked for a child of Miroku's. It will happen. If not this son that is seeking your embrace right now, then I'm proposing that you make an offering that will buy you time. With that time you will have your family, love and train them, and if a daughter is born that reflects the warrior in you and the intellect of Miroku, she will come to Dreaming if she dies while still a maiden."**_

"An offering?"

"_**Throw Hiraikotsu into the sea. Once it reaches the bottom, it will be my possession and available here in Dreaming once your daughter arrives. It will again be a weapon for a warrior woman."**_

"I think that would still be her decision whether or not to join you here," Sango responded.

"_**True. But what would your decision have been? To simply die and face what my older sister has for you? Or to live on, in your own way, in the dreams and stories of those who have the imagination to recreate you and new stories for you to act out? Truly, without this kind of inspiration here, even your own story will never be told in future generations because no one would believe, outside of their dreams, that one such as you could exist."**_

"If I agree to this?"

"_**Give me the cherry pit Mushin stole. I know it's under your shoulder armor."**_

Sango withdrew it and held it out to me. I brought it to the ruby that hung as a jewel around my neck. It was the concentration of my powers, and I imbued it with our promise. I handed it back to Sango. It was, once again, a dark, ripe cherry.

"_**If you agree to this, eat this cherry, pit and all. Both you and your son will wake up in the morning without harm. Then, many years from now, if a daughter of yours falls in battle, she will have the opportunity to join us here in Dreaming."**_

Sango nodded and dropped to her knees. She clasped her hands around the cherry and drew on all of her strength and wisdom to help her make her decision. She knew instinctively that she had only until the time until her son reached her to remain in Dreaming.

She opened her eyes.

She looked at me. Then looked at her son. He was off-balance, but still making his way as fast as he could to her arms. She looked at me again and I could see that she still was conflicted as to her decision.

But then, she looked once again at her son. She allowed herself to laugh at him in his determination to embrace his mother even as she cried out for a future child. She put the cherry to her lips, chewed carefully, and swallowed.

As the mother enfolded her son in her arms, they disappeared back into the waking world.

"That seemed hardly fair, sir," Lucien said, now standing at my side. He pushed his glasses farther up on his thin nose and huffed.

"_**No,"**_ I agreed. _**"But it will give her time. And she will not lose a child to an unknown sleeping malady. She would lose one in battle, which she is more prepared for."**_

"But still, you cannot ensure that a daughter will be born with her skills and passion who will die as a maiden. You cannot be sure you will repay your promise to that gentleman."

"_**I have been alive for as long as beings have dreamed. I know a little about the patterns of history. The patterns of people's lives. I did not make this decision lightly. I fully expect that a daughter of Sango will join us here in Dreaming. She will inspire stories of women who fight for their causes for generations and then some."**_

"Well, sir," sighed Lucien, "it's your decision and as your humble servant, I trust in your intuition on this matter."

"_**Thank you Lucien. See to it we are prepared for her arrival. If she is anything like her mother, we will be very fortunate to have her around."**_

"Yes, sir," was Lucien's answer.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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AN 2: Again, I would love to hear what readers think about this story.

AN 3: This chapter was originally published on February 28, 2011 on the livejournal community mirsan_fics as a part of the "Fire" prompt.


	4. Epilogue

Disclaimer: The characters of _Inuyasha_ and _The Sandman_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and Neil Gaiman, respectively. I'm not profiting from writing this.

Author's Note: This is an _Inuyasha_ crossover with Neil Gaiman's _Sandman_ series (mostly crossed with the story from the book _The Dream Hunters_).

AN 2: This last chapter is a bit of a departure from the rest of the story.

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Endless Sleep

By Starzki

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4. Epilogue

-x-

Josh fidgeted as he waited for his agent to invite him into his office for their meeting. He had only submitted a very rough draft of the script and the ending, though plotted, wasn't included. However, since his last script translated into major profits at the box office and was in talks for a television spin-off, interest in his latest work was extremely high.

A subtle buzz sounded on the secretary's desk phone. She answered, looked up at Josh and said, "Mr. Anders will see you now."

Josh thanked her and entered his agent's spacious west Los Angeles office, complete with spectacular view. Mr. Anders was on his feet, smiling and extending his hand for a bone crushing handshake.

As the gentlemen took their seats, Mr. Anders went straight to business. "You're right. It's rough. I have questions. I have concerns." Mr. Anders smoothed down his silk tie that probably cost more than Josh's monthly car payment.

"You want to know how it ends," Josh guessed.

"Of course. But I can guess. The warrior mother wakes up, is overjoyed to see her son is no longer suffering his bizarre illness. She throws her weapon into the sea. But what prevents her from trying to renege on the deal she made by just not having more children? Or refusing to train daughters as warriors, too?"

Josh got excited, "But that's the beauty of her having been in an alternate reality. Though she keeps her initial promises, she doesn't fully remember her ordeal. It's as though it was a dream and the memory of that dream slips through her fingers as time goes on. She and her husband are able to convince themselves they embellished the reality of her compromise. They move on with their lives, have more children, and train them all as they normally would. They end up fulfilling their obligation. It will all be very fraught with emotion as she does her damnedest to believe everything was coincidence, just a dream."

Mr. Anders struck a thoughtful pose, mindful of the way the afternoon sun could make him look appropriately broody and intelligent. Writers really responded positively to thoughtful praise, even criticism, of their work as long as he got the initial pose right. Finally, he said, "I suppose if they got the right actress to play the lead, it would work. But that brings up my other point."

"Your concerns," Josh prodded.

"Yes. While your first film was female-driven, with a very similar character to the one here, I'm concerned with the potential for this movie to be appealing to males, specifically men 18-24 years of age. They love their comic book heroes; they want dudes they can identify with up on the screen. I don't want to alienate half of the audience if the franchising potential will increase with this same story, only a male lead."

Josh frowned, but nodded. "I see what you're saying, but I disagree. I think you underestimate both the buying power of young female audiences, as well as the mass appeal of strong female lead characters, especially the warrior women. She-Ra, Wonder Woman, La Femme Nikita, the Bride in _Kill Bill_, _Witchblade_, to name a few. All of these characters stemmed from the same place as the character in my own script. All were huge successes for both male and female audiences and the franchising was huge. If the studios, directors, and actors stay faithful to my script, the character will take on a life of her own."

Mr. Anders kept his expression neutral, but he was inwardly joyful. He was seeing major dollar signs if he played his cards right. It was enough to convince him.

"Okay, Josh. It sounds doable. I'd like another draft of this by the end of the next week with the ending we discussed. We'll go over it some more then. I have a few ideas of who to float the script to initially, but that will depend on a few edits. Nice work."

Josh jumped up and shook Mr. Anders hand again. "I'm glad we agree on this. I've already started working on the ending. I'll have the next draft to you as soon as possible."

Mr. Anders flashed his gleaming smile at the young writer. "Warrior women could be your calling card. What on earth made you think in that direction?"

Josh shrugged and paused at the office's doorway. "Well, of course I've been surrounded by amazing women most of my life. But the inspiration for the particular character came from an intensely detailed dream I had a few years ago. It just wouldn't leave me alone, so I had to write it out and see where it led me."

Mr. Anders saw Josh out. "We'll, it looks like your dream will lead us to a very nice pay day."

Josh smiled and left. Yes, the money would be nice, but that he was able to tap into such a character and be able to share it with the world was the true payoff for him. He walked with a brisk step to his car to return home and finish the next draft.

END.

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AN 3: As I said, this chapter is a departure from the rest of the story. As much as I wanted to detail the epilogue through reality of the _Inuyasha_ universe, I thought that, to drive home my point, a completely different perspective was needed. I hope that my attempt was successful. I welcome any responses to this story. Thank you for reading.


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